


Sparks

by Flavortext



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, gay musings, turning into gay conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 20:18:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14755631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flavortext/pseuds/Flavortext
Summary: I marathoned season two in two and a half weeks so these wlw who don't know how to talk to each other are On My Mind





	Sparks

Thinking back, Beau can add up all the little things that led to her falling for Yasha. 

There were the upfront immediate attactors, muscles and that soft firm voice, and the way she moves in battle, fluid and sharp all at once. Beau would compare it to the lashing wind and rain of a storm, if she didn’t get sick to her stomach just thinking about storms these days. 

Part of her fought it for a while. She kept up the flirting, allowed herself to stare and fumble awkwardly through late night conversations, but she stuffed down the thought of actual  _ feelings _ for Yasha for a long time. They hardly knew each other at first, Yasha being there one day and gone the next, and there was always the threat of the next battle, the feeling that one mistake could very well be the end for any one of them. And when they got stronger, became more of a cohesive group, Beau thought about just putting her attraction, her fondness aside, letting their little family be what it was. 

Her brain had different ideas, though. 

 

They were on the road, as usual. Yasha, newly returned from whatever it was she left to do, had taken first watch with Molly, Beau had volunteered to take second alone, everyone else was too beat up from a battle in the last town, they needed to rest and heal. Beau awoke to a gentle touch on her shoulder, startling her, but Yasha’s pale fire-lit face immediately calmed her. 

“Watch is up. Nothing eventful.” Yasha sounded tired, sitting back on her heels to allow Beau to sit up fully. She watched Beau stretch, mismatched eyes tracking her movements. Beau couldn’t tell if she liked the attention, it wasn’t unlike Yasha to watch something with interest, but the woman was usually a little more reserved with outright staring. 

“Like what you see?” Beau said, before she could really stop herself. Yasha dipped her head, blushing slightly. Beau forced a laugh, untangling from her bedroll. She clapped Yasha on the shoulder as she stood, stepping past her and over to the fire to warm her hands. Beau looked over her shoulder, expecting to see Yasha heading over to her own bed, set up under a nearby tree. Instead she was greeted by the woman, a few inches away. Beau jumped for real this time, ever surprised at how silent Yasha could be. They met eyes, Yasha not saying anything for a moment. 

“I wanted to give you this.” Yasha said softly, breaking their eye contact to rummage for something in her bag. Beau took the opportunity to take a step back (though she had to fight the urge to stay, keep the slight tingle on her skin from the closeness). Her efforts were immediately thwarted as Yasha found what she was looking for and stepped forward again, closing the distance Beau had created and pressing something into her hands. It was a book, or more a few thick sheets of folded paper, hand bound with a blue thread. Beau looked up to Yasha curiously. 

“What’s this?” She asked, flipping it open. Inside each page was a pressed flower, most of which Beau was familiar with, a few she didn’t recognise. There were only six pages, but each flower was expertly laid out and in great condition. Yasha started talking, voice soft and fast. 

“I really like collecting them, they’re pretty and we didn’t have many things like this in Xhorhas, and I was going to make one for everybody, because next time I go away might be for a while, and I want you all to know I care about you and will come back, but I wanted them to be personalized and I found a lot of nice blue ones a few weeks ago and I finished your’s tonight and I wanted to give it to you and-” Beau cut off Yasha’s rambling with a hug. She held out one arm at an angle, careful to not crush the booklet, but pulled Yasha too her tightly. She felt the woman stiffen for a moment, and almost cursed herself for not asking first and started to pull away, but a pair of muscled arms wound their way lightly around Beau’s back before she could move. Yasha was taller, and Beau’s face was crushed slightly into her shoulder, but she smelled like rain and steel, and though she was only gently holding Beau, there was a sense of safety from the pressure at her back. 

Beau had to take it upon herself to break the hug, squirling out under Yasha’s arms, but not putting much distance between them. She took another moment to look at the flowers again. Sure enough they were mostly blue, Beau wished she knew the names of any of them, with a few reds and yellows. She smiled. 

“Yasha, this is so sweet.” Beau looked up at the woman again. Yasha was smiling, more than just a little turn at the corner of her lips, and in the flickering light she seemed to glow. “You know we all love you, right?” Beau said. She knew she could speak for the group, even if they had started off banding together for protection and their various skills, a true bond had formed. What had started as a respect for their powers in battle turned into fake-annoyed banter (her and Molly), or sly teasing (Jester to Fjord and Caleb), and a general idea as each of them shared bits of their pasts, that though life had been shitty before, they were building something like a friendship, even a family as Molly called it, despite whatever baggage they held.

Beau closed the book, smiling up to match Yasha. “Thank you for this, really. We’ll... I’ll miss you, when you go off to do your shit, but there’s always a place for you here.” Beau looked away and bent to stir up the flames in the fire. 

“Thank you.” Yasha’s voice was soft and a little cracked, like she was holding something back, but Beau steeled herself not to press. She stood up from the heat of the flames. Yasha was still so close, it would be so easy to punctuate her last sentence with a kiss. Molly was already asleep, curled up across the fire and a ways away. If Yasha wanted to reject her no one would be the wiser and she’d had a whole nights watch to deal with the sting. Beau almost felt her foot move, one tiny step to close the distance. She could feel the ghost touch of Yasha’s arms on her back. But before she could do anything, Yasha stepped away, ducking her head, smile fading. 

“Goodnight, Beau. I’ll uh...see you in the morning.” Yasha turned and softly walked to her bedroll, fiddling with the cloth and adjusting her sword against the tree before sitting, cross legged with her back to the bark, and closing her eyes. Beau sighed, looking away to stare at the flames licking the last of their firewood. She’d have another chance, probably. 

 

Yasha left a few days later, in a violent storm that forced them to divert their travels to a tiny town and pile into one room at the local inn. Yasha helped them tie off the horses and get settled in the room, then whispered something to Molly before standing and declaring. “I have to go.”, slightly louder than her usual volume as Jester and Knott where chatting away. There was a general mix of sad noises and well wishes, but Yasha hardly stayed in the room long enough to hear Jester’s begging her to stay. The door shut with a click, and a silence fell, before Fjord got them flipping coins for who got floor and who got beds, and they all drifted off to sleep, the booms of thunder fading as the night went on. 

 

They were being attacked. What had started as a quick splitting up to get shopping done before the sun set had turned into panic, a band of trolls parading through the city. Beau, Jester, and Molly had been together, just restocking on foodstuffs and health potions, when screams tore out though the town. They could see signs of Caleb and Fjord, only a few streets away, flames and blasts of green and black energy rocketing into the sky, but they were preoccupied with the two hulking foes in front of them. Jester and her double were distracting one, enough for Molly to get some good, gory hits on it, but Beau was loosing ground, backing into an alley, her staff seeming to just bounce off the creatures thick skin. She got a solid crack in on its knee, causing it to falter for a second, but she was already bruised and bloody, her friends out of sight now, and the moment she took to try and lean around to see them left an opening for a thick club to catch her side. She felt things break, then heat, then blackness took her vision. Her last strain of consciousness felt a second, equally painful swipe of the club, and then nothing.

She wasn’t dead. Her first thought, after what felt like an eternity and a second all at once, was that she couldn’t be dead because she could feel the rain, a gently  _ pat pat pat _ on her cheeks, and then she could hear it too, the sounds of a drizzle, accompanied by someone breathing heavily. Then she felt pain, but not nearly what she expected. That gave her the bravery to try opening her eyes. 

The glow of Jester’s healing was just fading, the tiefling slumping back against the wall and immediately casting another spell on herself, a gash on her head slowly knitting itself back together. On Beau’s other side, Molly was standing over the corpse of the troll, scimitars glowing still. And closer to Beau, crouched at her side a few feet away, holding a blood stained greatsword and cloaked in heavy shadows, was Yasha. Her skeletal wings were just starting to tuck back behind her, shadows fading, replaced by the colors of the fading sunset behind a layer of clouds. The rain was fading too, the short downpour just a mist now, and Beau felt herself cough. Immediately Yasha shuffled forward, putting a hand to Beau’s shoulder, leaning her back up against the side of a house. Beau could feel the sticky warm feeling of blood still dripping down her neck, and there was what felt like a bruise forming all down her right side, shoulder to thigh. She winced, the pain coming back in waves. She must have made a noise because Yasha moved even closer. 

“Shh, don’t try to talk yet. Jester used her last spell’s up, but we’ll get you to an inn, she’ll fix you up tomorrow.” Yasha sounded worried, and Beau could understand why. The warmth she had felt after being brought from the brink was seeping away, a bone-deep cold settling in, and her vision was peppered with sparks and swaying slightly. Yasha’s hand stayed at her shoulder though, keeping her upright against the brick wall. 

“You have good timing, huh?” Beau said, her voice coming out as barely a whisper. Something was definitely wrong with her side, her ribs or her lung or something. Yasha laughed nervously. Jester was picking herself up, walking down the alley towards Molly, saying something about “let’s loot these fuckers”, but Beau hardly heard her. 

“Stay with us, come on.” Yasha shook Beau a little, the resulting spike of pain bringing her back from that fuzzy place. “Breath.” Beau wasn’t sure which one of them Yasha was instructing. The rain started again, colder this time. Yasha let out a shaky breath. “Let’s get somewhere dry.” Beau felt herself being lifted, gritting her teeth through the pain, focusing all her attention on the warmth of Yasha against her less painful side. When they were both standing, Yasha adjusted, holding Beau steadily in front of her. 

“Are you back?” Beau asked, making her voice a little clearer this time. 

“For a while, yes.” Yasha was tucking hair out of Beau’s face where it had fallen out of its tie. 

“Good.” Beau wondered if maybe this time she’d get to kiss Yasha. They were very close now, and she was barely standing, it would be easy to just fall forward, let Yasha support her weight, crane her head and kiss her. “I still have your book. Some of the flowers are dry now, though.” Beau remarked, a little sad. She looked at them most nights, Molly and Jester teased her endlessly for it, but it made her happy, and it felt like Yasha had wanted to be remembered, so it was the least Beau could do. Yasha smiled, that genuine smile Beau had seen before. 

“I’ll find more, just don’t go dying on me again.” Yasha took Beau’s arm, and for a moment she thought she was going to kiss her, but then she was pivoting and slinging Beau over her shoulder, and they were walking, every step a blinding flash of pain, and Beau just closed her eyes and put one foot in front of the other until she felt a soft set of sheets and hands pushing her into bed, and she was too tired to even make a lewd comment before she was asleep. 

 

Beau awakes to the sun, shining in through an open window. She feels better, magical-healing better, and besides dried blood cracking as she twists her neck, the past nights battle seems distant. Yasha is sitting in a chair, Frumpkin in her lap, idly playing with his fur. Beau watches for a moment, taking in Yasha’s soft breathing, the calmness on her face. 

“Hi.” Beau tests out her voice, a little stiff from just waking up but her lungs seem to be functioning. Yasha looks up, Frumpkin jumping out of her lap at the sudden movement. 

“You’re awake, are you well? Do you need more healing?” Yasha is at Beau’s side in an instant, a hand going to brush away the dried blood from her cheek and neck, and a sigh of relief to find no wounds beneath it.  

“I’m good, food would be nice.” Beau’s stomach growls as punctuation. 

“Okay.” Yasha says, but she doesn’t move, nor does her hand on the side of Beau’s neck. Beau leans into the touch automatically, but a silence falls between them. Yasha’s face is an unreadable mix of emotions, her mouth a tight frown suddenly. 

“Is something wrong? Do you have to leave again?” Beau feels sick again, it’s sunny but she’s never verbally confirmed that Yasha only leaves in the rain, and she just got here but she looks so unhappy, and Beau’s mind starts spinning before Yasha speaks again. 

“I am not a patient person.” She starts. Her hand goes from Beau’s neck to her chin, forcing their eyes to meet. “I do not know that it is a good idea, what I am about to do. This may be a very bad idea.” Beau nods, lost in staring at Yasha’s eyes. She’s hyper aware of how close their sitting, her back against the wall and pillows, Yasha at her hip with one arm crossed over her legs, fist bunching up the sheets. “You are, um,” Yasha pauses to search for words. “Captivating.” Beau smiles and lets out a puff of air, it’s a genuine compliment she can tell, and the word choice is very Yasha. 

“You have expressed, interest, I guess, in me.” Yasha broke eye contact, staring down at her lap. “I have not been very forthright in giving me my opinions, in regards to those...comments.” Beau could feel a tangle in her stomach, growing and twisting. 

“I nearly died and now I’m being scolded for flirting, can’t catch a break.” Beau doesn’t want to be cruel, but her brain is throwing up defences. Yasha breaths out sharply. 

“I am not scolding you.” She says, in a frustrated tone Beau has not heard before. “I am saying,” Yasha breathed out again, steadier this time. “I am trying to reciprocate.” Yasha continued before Beau could process those words. “My situation does not lend itself to a stable relationship, and I do not want to put you through any heartache, but seeing you so hurt put many things in perspective for me. I do not want to die, I do not want you to die, before we get to enjoy...this, whatever is happening here.” Yasha moved her hand from Beau’s cheek to gesture between them. Beau hears herself laugh through the blood rushing in her ears. 

“You’re saying you like me?” She says, and her tone is jolly despite the pounding of her heart, and it takes physical effort to reign herself in, because at some point this flirting with Yasha became more important than a game or a hope for a fun night. It became her actually wanting something, wanting  _ her _ . And with Yasha gone these past weeks Beau had felt an aching absence, which scared the shit out of her because they weren’t even  _ together _ , and she was flipping through her little book and imagining Yasha there, imagining kissing her and running her fingers through her hair and all the places that could lead, and she found herself watching every cloud and wishing to see that smile again, or hear a quiet voice pipe up when they were planning their next move. 

Beau captured Yasha’s hand, thanking her quick reflexes. Yasha was slightly pink, still not meeting Beau’s gaze. “Yasha,” Beau dropped the joking tone to her voice, did her best to sound genuine, wished she’d payed more attention to Fjord’s lessons. She absently drew a small circle in Yasha’s limp palm. “Look at me.” Yasha took a shaky breath and obeyed. 

“I don’t need to know where you go, what you do, who you work for or whatever.” Yasha looked like she was about to say something but Beau pushed on. “I can’t say it wouldn’t suck, if we made this something and you left again, I missed you so much the past few weeks, I will miss you the next time you leave no matter what happens today. But I would do it. I’d go through missing you and worrying about you and all that shit, because the days you’re here are so nice. Being around you makes me feel giddy and happy and when I say I’m fine leaving this unspoken or just being friends I mean it, because this group means  _ so much _ to me, this family, Yasha,” Beau felt herself actually choke up, and was suddenly aware of squeezing Yasha’s hands so hard her knuckles were pale. She forcefully relaxed. 

“I mean that, Yasha. But I also can’t lie to you, I think about kissing you and sleeping with you and doing cute dating shit, and when you go I’ll  _ miss you _ , but if we can make the days in between good then I’ll be okay and-” Beau was cut off by a mess of black and white hair lurching forward, closing the distance between then in an instant. Their lips met, Yasha’s slightly chapped but pressing softly against Beau’s frozen expression, and Beau’s eyes closed automatically to see fireworks going off in the darkness, before she regained her composure enough to lean in, fist a hand in Yasha’s shirt and drag her closer. 

They kissed until they had to break for air, Beau leaning into the crook of Yasha’s neck and giggling despite herself, because for women who weren’t good with words they had just done a lot of talking, and she’d fumble through it all again a million times because Yasha kissing her felt like god damn electricity, left her fingertips buzzing and the hairs on her arms raised. Yasha was smiling against her scalp, she could feel the curve of her lips, and Beau pushed away to meet her eyes again. 

“I owe Molly three silver.” Yasha said slowly, before giggling to herself. “He bet me I wouldn’t have the guts to kiss you first.” Beau laughed, pulling Yasha in, kissing her harder this time for a brief moment. 

“Now we can call it even.” She said, releasing Yasha’s shirt and leaning back, smiling at Yasha’s small pout. “Where are the others, anyways?” She asked. Jester’s bedroll was packed, sitting against the wall by the door. 

“Finishing shopping, cleaning troll guts off the streets. I kind of butchered the one that hit you.” Yasha shrugged. “I should be helping, but Jester said you might want me here when you woke up.” Yasha smiled at that, fiddling with the sheets again. 

“I’ll have to thank her.” Beau grabbed Yasha’s hand, squeezing it for a moment before kicking off her blankets and standing, a little unsteady but fully healed from the endeavour, and stretching. She was still in bloodsoaked clothes, and a trip to the bathhouse was probably in order (and gods if that wasn’t going to be awkward now if Mollymauk had his say in anything. She considered not telling him, but if she was going to do this with Yasha, she wasn’t going to hide it. She was going to show her off to the world.), but for now Beau would resign herself to a quick scrub in inns washroom. 

“Let’s see if we can catch up with them, I’ll front your silver.” Beau reached a hand out to Yasha. When she took it, she pulled her up, crowding back into her space. “You’ll just owe me a meal.” Beau smiled, leaning up to kiss Yasha again, letting her arms snake around Yasha’s waist and sighing into it as Yasha put her own arms around Beau’s back, like she had weeks ago by the fire. Beau really never wanted to leave, especially when Yasha ran her tongue over Beau’s bottom lip, delved deeper into the kiss, her breath hitching as Beau reciprocated. There would be time for that, Beau decided, time for learning what made each other breathless, but now her stomach really was growling, so she pulled away, left one last short peck on the corner of Yasha’s mouth, and linked their arms. Her head came up to the perfect level to rest against Yasha’s shoulder, and she reveled in this before leading her out of the room, down the stairs, and out into the blue-skied world. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you can figure out what song was on loop while I wrote this im sorry also dont judge me


End file.
